


Chaperones

by skye_42



Category: The Folk of the Air - Holly Black
Genre: Cardan in the Mortal World, Crack Fic, F/F, F/M, Fluff, Gen, cardan doesn’t know what a wallaby is, cardan wears a terrible hat, field trip fic, im sorry, jude and cardan wear neon orange, jude kicks ass in bumper cars, legit just a crack fic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-20
Updated: 2020-05-20
Packaged: 2021-03-02 20:00:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,698
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24282499
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skye_42/pseuds/skye_42
Summary: Heather gets sick so she and Vivi can’t chaperone Oak’s third grade field trip. Jude and Cardan go in their place.
Relationships: Jude Duarte & Vivienne Duarte, Jude Duarte/Cardan Greenbriar, Vivienne Duarte/Heather
Comments: 7
Kudos: 163
Collections: KnightsofAce Favorite Fics, favorite on TFOTA





	Chaperones

**Author's Note:**

> The York Wild Kingdom Zoo and Amusement Park

“Vivi, no!” I hiss, setting down the itinerary my sister kept insisting on handing me. “I can’t just leave Faerie to go on some zoo trip, just because you feel like laying in bed!”

“Oh come on,” she turns and points to Heather in exasperation. “I won’t just be laying in bed. She’s got the flu, and I can’t chaperone this trip without her!”

“But you expect me to go alone?” I’m incredulous, the list of my duties back in Faerie flitting through my head at lightning speed. 

Heather opens her mouth to say something, but closes it again and sinks back into the couch with exhaustion written in every line of her body. Vivi’s eyes shoot to her girlfriend, obviously concerned, but I don’t let it sidetrack me. 

“You expect me to watch a gaggle of children—“

“Oak’s friends.” Vivi interrupts. 

“—alone? Vivi I have a thousand different things I need to do, none of which involve wrangling a hundred little demons. Why not tell Madoc to go?”

She fixes me with a tired look and I have to admit that maybe suggesting Madoc, of all people, wasn’t my smartest move. Honestly, I don’t think I can picture any scenario involving Madoc and a field trip that doesn’t end with at least one person in the emergency room. 

I sigh and bury my face in my hands, my elbows resting on the breakfast bar in Vivi’s kitchen. Out in the living room, some reality show blares and Chinese food containers are stacked miles high. With Heather sick, all she’s wanted was takeout food and sleep. Vivi looks at her wits end, clearly far more worried about her girlfriend than the field trip that she’s assured me Oak has been looking forward to for weeks. 

“I glamoured Oak’s teacher already. She thinks you and Cardan were the chaperones all along.” 

My eyes go wide and I shoot to my feet, ready to wring my sister’s neck. “You want me to bring Cardan? Vivi you expect both the King and Queen of Faerie to just leave for some stupid—“

“It’ll only be for the day, which is night for Faerie.” She sounds exasperated. “Nobody will even have to know you’re gone and you’ll be back by eight, long enough to get some shut eye for the next day.”

And because she’s right, we would be gone in the middle of the night, I don’t really have anymore reason to argue with her; especially given how Heather chooses that exact moment to make a run for the toilet in the hall bathroom. 

I sigh and admit defeat, grabbing the itinerary for Mrs. Walker’s third grade class field trip to York’s Wild Kingdom Zoo and Amusement Park. Scowling down at the times and picking up Heather and Vivi’s chaperone t-shirts, I walk out of the apartment and make my way back to where I parked my ragwort steed. 

Two days later, I’m standing between my little brother and my husband, both bouncing with excitement in Mrs. Walker’s classroom as we wait for the call to line up to go to the busses. 

Cardan and I match, mostly because we’re both wearing pairs of his dark canvas breeches and identical chaperone shirts, dyed the world’s most neon shade of orange to attract attention. His ears and tail are glamoured away, only visible to myself and Oak. He passed well for a mortal man, though his pale skin and ethereal beauty have already earned at least one open-mouthed stare from Mrs. Devins, a housewife who also happens to be chaperoning. 

“Mrs. Greenbriar, can I go to the bathroom?” Emily, a little girl in our group, asks for the second time this morning. 

I leave Cardan and Oak looking over a map of the park and walk Emily down the hall to the third grade bathroom, waiting for her to finish and walking her back without a word. By the time we return, both boys are sitting in little desks with their heads all but pressed together, Cardan’s legs stretched out in front of him because they’re far too long for him to sit properly. 

I reach into my pocket and pull out the itinerary, on which I have written a list of all the kids we’re responsible for today. 

Oak  
Emily  
Derrick   
Thomas  
Annabelle  
Kelly

The entirety of the third grade is going on this trip, so we’ve gotten off easy only having to watch six kids, especially since we were allowed to chaperone together. I don’t know what I would’ve done if I’d had to turn Cardan loose in the mortal world with a gaggle of children. 

We’re here at six o’clock in the morning, two hours before school starts, because it’ll be a long drive to the zoo. We’re set to arrive at about nine o’clock and we will depart at five to be back by eight. Cardan and I don’t typically wake up until ten at night, so we’ll do well if we sleep on the bus ride back. 

“Jude! What’s a wallaby?” Cardan asks, wonder glimmering in his tar black eyes. 

“I think it’s Australian.” I announce, sitting down beside him as Mrs. Walker starts to call groups to head to the busses. 

“What’s an Australian?” 

I’m saved from answering that glorious question when Mrs. Walker tells us to head to bus 560. I stand again, counting the kids in our group and grabbing our bag before waving them out the door and down the hall. 

When we get on the bus, I set about grabbing a seat for Cardan and myself at the front of the bus, because I remember every field trip in the mortal world involving kids sitting behind the chaperones. Oak and his friends confirm my memories by running as far back in the bus as they can, already getting loud and rowdy despite how early it is. 

I sit Cardan by the window, knowing he’ll want to look out as we drive. His eyes are already wide, his nose wrinkling at the overpowering scent of gasoline. He still holds the map in his hands, focusing intently as I go through the bag to double check that were given an epi-pen because Emily is allergic to bees. 

“Did you inform The Bomb about our whereabouts?” I ask him, whispering so we aren’t heard over the sound of the bus. “Is everything all taken care of?”

“Faerie won’t burn down because we leave for one night, wife.” He rolls his eyes at me, pressing a kiss to my temple. “And, yes, I told Bomb we were going on a field trip.”

His mouth curls around the words, almost like he isn’t sure he’s saying them right. Still, I don’t miss the teasing, so I glare in his direction before turning once more to the itinerary, which I already memorized two days ago. 

Our bus driver, an elderly man named Ian, climbs on and greets us. The whole bus is full of third graders, more than just Mrs. Walker’s class, and it’s already nearly deafening. Within thirty seconds, some teacher I’m not familiar with is yelling at the kids to quiet down. 

Cardan folds up the map and puts it in our bag as the bus drives away, absentmindedly grabbing my hand and watching out the window. 

The bus ride passes quickly, likely because I, against all odds, fell asleep sometime before sunrise. When I’m awoken by Cardan’s fingers running through my hair and his delicate whispers of my name, I reach for my knife in a panic. 

“You weren’t allowed weaponry today, my darling villain.” He laughs in my ear and I finally process my surroundings, remembering that we’re chaperoning for Oak’s field trip and I have no reason to pull a knife on a bunch of third graders. 

At least, not yet. 

“Are we there yet?” I groan, sleep thickening my voice as I rub my eyes hard enough to see stars. 

Cardan smiles at me, telling me that Mrs. Walker said we were about ten minutes out. “I figured you’d like to go over your schedule once more, for good measure.”

I can’t tell if he’s being genuine or if he’s making fun of me, but I do look at our papers one more time to be safe. The last thing I want to do is lose a kid or go somewhere at the wrong time. 

“I’m not sure who this Wendy lady is, but she seems to have an affinity for eateries.” Cardan announces as we pass a Wendy’s, likely for the bazillionth time this trip. I smile and ignore him, triple checking out epi-pen and reorganizing our bottles of water before closing the bag once more. 

Behind us, another chaperone asks how long we’ve been married. When Cardan tells her it’s been more than a year and she visibly blanches, I remember that mortals don’t tend to marry as young as we did. It’s strange, being surrounded by humans who all show their ages so obviously. 

To them, we’re barely adults. They likely think we’re going to college or working small jobs. I suppose I can’t blame them for being surprised, out of our normal clothing, you’d never suspect Cardan and I rule over a kingdom. We don’t really look the part of a King and Queen when we’re forced to wear traffic cone orange shirts and sit in a smelly old school bus. 

Ian pulls up to the front of the zoo and I have to hold Cardan down to keep him in his chair as other groups file off. Our kids are in the very back, singing along to some repetitive song about baby sharks, clearly just as impatient as my husband. 

When I finally get everyone off the bus and their wrist bands around their arms, I do another headcount and roll call. Cardan slings our bag onto his back, bouncing on the balls of his feet and looking around as fast as he can, trying to take in all the bright colors and loud noises. 

I go over our schedule with the kids, telling them how we’ll be spending the morning at the zoo and the afternoon at the amusement park. The hour in between is reserved for eating and any shopping that they might want to get done, as well as our scheduled trip to the butterfly pavilion. 

“No, Derrick, you can’t pet the tigers.” I sigh as the little blond boy raised his hand, mischief in his eyes. He’s asked me this question at least six times since I met him. If his tiger printed shirt and matching tiger baseball cap are anything to go by, I’d assume he has a favorite animal. 

I wrangle the kids and allow them to walk in front of us, one eye glued to Oak and the other watching everyone else as they run ahead. 

“Ok, but can I pet the tigers?” Cardan whispers in my ear as we snake through the rides, heading back towards the zoo. 

“Cardan, if you so much as look at a tiger I will kick your ass.” I hiss back, my heart rate spiking as my mind plays images of Cardan getting mauled by tigers. 

Quickly, the visions morph into him standing naked, surrounded by the gore of a slaughtered snake. My throat threatens to close and tears almost prick at my eyes. “And we aren’t looking at any reptiles, either.”

“There aren’t any, I checked the map.” He’s so caught up in the park around us that he thankfully doesn’t notice my change in tone, allowing me a few seconds to compose myself again. “But there are lions, I want to see whose tail looks nicer.”

I can’t help the snort I let out. “More like whose mouth is bigger.”

“Oh my nemesis, how you wound me.”

We make it to the zoo entrance and all the kids are instantly fighting over where they want to go first. 

“I want to see the camels!” 

“Ducks are cooler!”

“You can see ducks anywhere!”

“Give me tigers or give me death!”

“Derrick get off the picnic table!” I yell, upon seeing that the little boy has climbed up on an extremely rickety table. “Cardan, please go get the tiger enthusiast.”

“Mrs. Greenbriar, I need to go to the bathroom.” Emily pulls at the hem of my shirt. 

Cardan, now with Derrick on his back and a tiger baseball cap covering his eyes, returns to my side. “I believe a trip to the bathroom is wisest, then we’ll circle around the park.”

Oak grabs my hand and Emily stays attached to my shirt hem as we walk to the bathrooms. Ten minutes later, we’re all looking at the tigers and I think Derrick may be having an aneurism. 

“Jude, is that what I sound like when I wax poetic about my wine?” Cardan stage whispers in my ear as Derrick begins his third long-winded speech about the majesty of the tiger. 

“Your speeches are far more pleasing to the ear, my king.” I smirk as Derrick slips up, mispronouncing a word and deciding that the mistake warrants starting all over. 

Below us, a few tigers jump around their enclosure, one playing with a pumpkin full of ground beef. Thomas is goading Derrick into a fourth speech and Oak is pointing excitedly, Annabelle and Emily hanging off every word he says. 

I smile, wrapping my arm around my husbands waist and leaning into his side as another tiger attacks the one with the pumpkin, rolling into the side of the enclosure with teeth snapping. 

I wish I’d taken a moment longer to revel in the calm, because three hours later, I am at my wit’s end. 

Cardan is pouting because he severely misunderstood what a sea lion was, Kelly is crying because she dropped her iPhone—what kind of a third grader even has a smart phone—Oak is on my shoulders, Derrick is pissed that we won’t go back to the tigers, Emily has been to the bathroom four times, Thomas won’t stop trying to do handstands, and Annabelle is whining that she’s starving. 

On top of all of that, my husband’s face is turning the color of roses because he is entirely too pale to be walking around without sunblock on. 

“Just watch them!” I yell at Cardan as I pull the wallet out of our bag and go stomping in the direction of the closest souvenir shop. I hear Kelly’s crying switch from complaining about her phone to complaining about not being able to shop, but I’m a woman on a mission right now. 

A little bell rings as I duck into the shop, taking Oak off my shoulders and giving him the order to only look for what we’re here for. It takes a few minutes and I know my husband won’t be happy with the final outcome, but Oak grabs the perfect hat, glamouring a handful of leaves into dollar bills so I can buy it and leave. 

I find the group back by the camels, the kids sticking their fingers through the fencing in the hopes of getting licked by one of the large animals. 

“Jude, what are you holding?” Cardan’s voice rouses me from my thoughts, thankfully distracting me as Kelly screeches about getting spit on by a camel. 

“A hat. For you.” I hold it out. He takes a step back, his face contorting in horror.

“Jude, my wife, that article of clothing may be the worst I’ve ever laid eyes on,” he announces with a quiet, nearly tear-filled voice. “The very pits of fashion, certainly not suitable for my current outfit!”

“Nothing is suitable for a shirt that orange, certainly not cheeks as red as yours have gone,” I snort in response, throwing the monstrosity atop his head and stepping back to examine my work. 

It’s a large floppy hat, similar to the fabric ones you’d see on the beach, but it’s printed with terrible drawings of all types of zoo animals as well as having the park’s name and logo emblazoned across the front. It covers Cardan’s whole face, the shadows showing just how badly he’s already been burned. 

He reaches up to take it off, obviously seconds from flinging it away in disgust. 

“Cardan you have a terrible sunburn and I won’t have you bitching about peeling skin tomorrow. You’ll wear the hat or you’ll regret it,” I warn, enough fire in my eyes to make him put the hat back on with a pout. 

“I think it’s,” Oak starts confidently, aiming for a compliment but faltering in the middle, “a hat.”

Cardan laughs, his rosy cheeks squishing up with his grin as he picks up his nephew. “Oak, my friend, you’re far too old to twist your words so poorly,” he smiles. “I’ll have to teach you better ways to flatter insincerely before your first court appearance.”

I roll my eyes and turn back to the other kids, having to drag Thomas down from where he’s begun to climb the camel enclosure. He whines, as do the rest of the kids when I tell them it’s time to leave the zoo, but they all perk up again when I say it’s also time for lunch. 

Cardan fishes out the envelope full of meal vouchers as I take orders. A chicken strip meal for that one, two burgers for them, a grilled cheese for her, a hot dog for him, and nachos for Oak. Cardan wisely takes my advice and settles for a burger, openly fascinated by the very concept of mortal cuisine. 

I personally take chicken strips and french fries with ketchup, a delicacy from my youth that I so sorely miss in a land where salt is toxic to its inhabitants. Cardan pouts when I don’t let him steal a fry—the last thing I need is to have him puking on fair rides this afternoon—but greatly enjoys the bite of chicken I offer. 

He is yet again far too tall for the table and his fingers are laughably large for the burger he holds, but the kids all seem to be enjoying the “act” that Mr. Greenbriar puts on where he pretends not to understand basic things around him. They absolutely have a riot when he asks me what ketchup is. 

Then it’s cleanup time and off to the butterfly enclosure. Something I, for one, am actually looking forward to. Cardan wraps his arm around my waist once more, his stupid hat shielding me from the sun too, and watches with me as the kids clamber inside the first door. 

An attendant warns us to be delicate with the butterflies because their wings can get hurt easily and then she lets us inside. All my stress from earlier melts away for a moment as the room opens up to a rainforest utopia, butterflies of all shapes and sizes and colors fluttering about our group. 

Thankfully the kids are quiet and well-behaved in here, too busy being awestruck by the butterflies to start doing stupid things like climbing walls. All but Oak, who walks back towards us with a small frown on his face. 

“What’s wrong?” I ask, my fingers brushing through his hair and over his horns. 

His shoulders slump but he doesn’t say anything. 

“Your queen commanded you to speak, it is your duty to obey her,” Cardan lightly reprimands, his fingers going under Oak’s chin to force him to lift his head. 

A monarch floats by on a lazy breeze, crossing right between us and drawing all of our attention for a moment. 

“Sometimes I miss home,” he finally admits, his eyes hollow in a way I haven’t seen in him before, a way I know I used to sport often in my youth. “The mortal world has things that Elfhame doesn’t, but when I watch everyone else get excited over pretty gardens or animals, I remember that home is far prettier.”

Cardan lets go of my waist, grabbing Oak and putting him on his hip before walking deeper into the garden. 

I can’t hear what they say, I can only watch as my husband calls butterflies, first to his open palm, then to my brothers. I feel my heart clench as he whispers something in Oak’s ear that makes my little brother smile again. My eyes follow him as Cardan sets him down once more, allowing him to run back to his friends. 

“What did you say?” I ask, reaching a hand out to my husband as he returns. 

“Merely that beauty isn’t inherent in a place or thing,” he smiles, reaching out his hand in turn and allowing a little blue butterfly to hop into my palm. “That it is what we cultivate, and he has more than enough magic to make some here.”

I blink back sudden tears at the way he looks at me, the open and pure adoration in his eyes. He pulls me into a kiss as a few more butterflies settle on his hat and in my hair. 

Then Emily asks about the god forsaken bathroom and the moment is ruined. 

“I swear that child has a urinary tract problem,” I hiss, turning back to the kids as Cardan laughs at me. 

We leave the butterfly room behind and head to the bathrooms. Again. 

The kids are running circles around Cardan when I return, leaving him openly concerned and visibly longing for a wine goblet. Oak is studiously sat at his Uncle’s side, looking every bit the little prince that he is but wasn’t raised to be. 

“My mommy gave me forty dollars!” Kelly yells at Derrick, the two seemingly in the midst of a fight about buying stuff at the gift shop. 

“Kelly, some of that is for dinner,” I warn her. “We have to eat on the way back so you need to save your money.”

“My mom said I can buy two tigers!” My warnings go out the window as Derrick distracts Kelly once more, the two descending into a fight about which is better, tigers or cheetahs. 

My eye twitches as I grab a water bottle from our bag, leaning into Cardan’s ear and whispering, “oh my husband my darling, do save me before I challenge a child to a duel.”

He laughs at me, standing up and grabbing Oak’s hand. He then assures me that it can’t be too bad, we already survived Annabelle trying to jump into the sea lion pool, surely we can handle shopping with a few children. 

At least Oak had my back in that shop, because gods know my husband lost his mind the second he got inside. 

I don’t honestly remember what happened, I think I blacked out about the time Thomas took a running leap at a stuffed animal display and I had to catch him mid air. 

“I don’t think it was too bad,” Oak says as he holds his brand new assortment of little stuffed butterflies. “You didn’t draw any blood when Kelly tried to buy a four hundred dollar necklace.”

“You checked the map, does this place have bumper cars?” I grind my teeth, watching Cardan stuff an insanely large plastic bag into our little black bag. He keeps refusing to show me what’s inside, insisting it’s a surprise. 

“It does,” my brother confirms. 

“Good,” I nod, herding him out of the store last. “Because I’m going to put some of these kids into a wall.”

And put them into a wall I do. By the time we make it off the bumper cars and to the Ferris wheel, Mrs. Jude Greenbriar is well on her way to being a legend in Mrs. Walker’s class, purely for her ruthless approach to bumper cars. Cardan, who insisted on standing aside since Emily didn’t want to ride—something about it making her need to pee—looked increasingly more horrified every time I spun around and sent another kid’s cart flying away from mine. 

At least it calmed the nerves a little bit. 

“My villain, my gorgeous, bloodthirsty little god,” he whispers in the shell of my ear, sending a shiver down my spine as our Ferris wheel cart rises up into the sky. “I expected a modicum of mercy for the mortal children.”

“Cardan if I ever have to take another child to a bathroom it will be too soon,” I snap, the sudden motion of me turning to face him causing our cart to rock dangerously. 

He grins at me.

I raise an eyebrow. 

“Good thing our children won’t need bathroom breaks,” he finally supplies. “I wouldn’t want you putting them into a wall.”

My eyes widen in shock. It’s not like we haven’t discussed children before—we’ll need to produce an heir to the throne at some point—and it’s not like I haven’t thought about having kids with him—we do share a bed every night—but to hear him so casually mention it is a rare thing indeed. 

He looks concerned, opening his mouth, likely to apologize for upsetting me, when his words really register in my head and I collapse back against the seat with a joyous little sigh

“Jude?” Now he just sounds confused, but I cut him off from saying anything else as I raise a finger to his lips. 

“You mean I won’t have to potty train our child?” I ask, my voice deadly quiet. 

“It’ll be fae,” he speaks around the finger at his mouth. “We don’t have those needs.”

I sigh in relief, bringing my hands to my face with a laugh. “Holy shit, Cardan. You just made my day,” I announce. “I had always wondered if being half mortal would be enough, but to know that I literally never have to worry about changing a diaper or potty training a toddler—“

I grab him by his ugly orange shirt and press a long kiss to his probably sunburnt lips as our cart reaches the top of the Ferris wheel. He starts at first, but quickly starts laughing into the kiss as his hands brace my hips. 

“Cardan now all you need to do is tell me that our daughters will never have a period and I’ll be set for life.” The words are out of my mouth before I can even think about it. 

“What’s a period?”

I freeze again, horror on my face once more as we reach the bottom of the Ferris wheel and the attendant pulls up our bar for us to stand. 

“Conversation for a different day!”

He seems bemused as I pull him away, but thankfully drops the topic. I leave all talk of children and bodily functions behind as we take the kids around the rest of the park, focusing intently on making sure they don’t launch themselves off one of the rides. 

Cardan later assures me that he prefers the Ferris wheel to any of the rollercoasters. Apparently they make him feel ill. 

I, naturally, prefer the bumper cars. 

All in all, we make it back on the bus with no injuries and I think I deserve a pat on the back for not literally killing Emily when she gets on the bus and then asks to use the bathroom. 

Cardan is delighted that we get to eat at a Wendy’s. I make a few enemies by asking the minimum-wage workers to make us fries without any salt, but I determine that it’s worth it so I can introduce my husband to frosty-dipped fries. 

Seeing the look on his face as we share a frosty and fries on the bus ride back, the easy smile and his laugh when we hit a pothole and I get ice cream on my face, makes the whole damn thing worth it.   
————————  
*back at the palace*

“Cardan, what the fuck?” I deadpan, dropping the little lion stuffed animal he’d bought me for when I missed his tail during the few days we occasionally spent apart. 

My husband spins around, a hot pink stuffed snake wrapped around his shoulders and the terrible floppy hat artfully tilted the same way he tilts his crown. 

“It’s called fashion, darling.”


End file.
